


Rabbits and Foxes can't Sing!

by WildBurr



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Concert, Faceless, Manipulative Agent, Music, Pre-WildeHopps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-22 10:58:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9604988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildBurr/pseuds/WildBurr
Summary: Wild Thing - Number one rock musician of Zootopia.Amethyst -Dueling with with Gazelle for top spot in the pop charts.HEATwave - The latest growing star rekindling the Power Ballad trend.They all have one thing in common. None of their fans have seen their faces.They think its time to change that. No matter what their Agent says.(EDIT)Also, if anyone can recommend a better name for either the fic or our three singers, I'd appreciate it!





	1. Requests!

I refuse to stop writing!

While I clean up Fluent, I figure I can at least make a start on this one. I had previously thought to make this a Fluent chapter, but why limit it to a one shot?

Aaaaaaaand, I really didn't want the dance routine I had planned go to waste, sooo...  
^_^

So, I have a request here for you all.

Music.

Give me titles and performer names. You want Judy singing to Sia? You got Sia. Nick belting out Meatloaf? Sure thing!

Go nuts! And if you like someone else's idea, say so!

For now, ta-ta!


	2. 1 - Anonymity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymity has it's perks... But is a little respect too much to ask?
> 
> \- A little teaser of what's to come, just introducing most of the cast. Singers will be divided between font styles, so see if you can guess who's who below!-

The bar didn't have the best, or cheapest drinks. There was no food besides nuts in bowls and microwaved pies of suspicious origin. The bartender wasn't the friendly dispenser of wisdom and truths.

The only thing the place had going for it was it's location, handily within walking distance of three private recording studios, and the change operated karaoke machine in the corner.

A buffalo in a tight fitting black tee held a tray of drinks above the seated patrons, laying it an out on the way table and quickly slipping back into his own chair. To his right a chubby cheetah was talking in hushed whispers into one of his mobiles, a notebook pulled seemingly from thin air, flicking through pages. Twitching an ear, he could make out one half of the conversation.

"-ow'd he get his leg in a... You know what, never mind. Tell him to call back in two weeks, maybe I'll have a torso only shoot for him. Miguel still looking for a spot? Tell him he's in, double training, he's got nine days to match the rest of the troupe..."

Moving his eyes round the table, mentally checked off the plain looking rabbit in jeans and denim shirt, the red fox in the startlingly loud Hawaiian shirt currently waving his paws around as he describes an anecdote in detail, and lastly the smallest of the group, a fennec with the most sour expression he had seen outside a mirror. Satisfied that his principals were secure, he picked up his own glass of a mock screwdriver and leaned back, subtly scanning the area.

"Do you an' spots ever take a break? S'not like anyone knows who we are."

 Vince suppressed a grumble as the same old argument threatened to rear it's head, sipping at the citrus juice in his glass. Ben, working his ability to multitask like a pro, snapped his fingers in Finnick's direction, wagging his finger while still negotiating schedules and performers, eyes never leaving his notes. Rolling his eyes, he flopped back bonelessly against the back of the chair, grabbing his tumbler.

"O' course if they did, they wouldn't be _butchering_ that track..."

The rabbit glanced over at the stage that saw better days, wincing at the off key warbling a pair of drunken hippos were bellowing into the microphones. If it wasn't for the screen behind them glaring out the name of the single, she'd never have connected the dots.

"Are we sure they're singing the right track? That... Doesn't sound anything like it."

Leaning in between the smaller mammals, the colourful canid chuckled while nudging Finn with his elbow in sympathy.

"You weren't here half an hour ago Fluff. I had half a mind to go up there and show them how it's done."

With that he picked up a nut and tossed it into the air, catching it with a sharp crunch. Finally, blessed silence came from the stage as the drunken youths staggered down, the fennec visibly relaxing. At the same time, Ben rattled off a stream of farewells down his phone before disconnecting, leaning back with a groan.

"Those tigers are going to be the death of me... Thanks babe." With a grateful little coo, he accepted the almost garishly pink cocktail between thumb and forefinger, leaning in with the air of one sitting on the juciest of gossip before slumping as yet another of his phones started ringing. With a shake of the head, a roll of the eyes and a sip of the glass, he glanced over at the bull.

"Time?"

Vince glanced at his watch and grunted out a terse "Six fifty-six", near glaring at the buzzing lump of plastic and circuits.

"Technically still in my business hours... I gotta take this hun... Bennie Clawhauser speak- oh Ga-"

The cheetah covered his mouth with a pair of fingers and continued in a more hushed tone.

"Gazelle, sweetheart, what a surprise! Uh huh... No, no, no, he's fine..."

Waving his drinking companions off and pulling yet _another_ notepad from... Somewhere, Nick gave a short chuckle.

"Can't say he doesn't take his work seriously..."

It was a motley crew and they knew it. If it wasn't for their shared, hidden occupations, they never would have given each other a second look.

*

Vincent Bogo. Once an up and rising star of the ZPD, rumoured to his sergeant in his third year, was brought down low by a thief somehow getting a paw on one of the highly restricted bullet based firearms. The copper round smashed into the bones in his shoulder, leaving it a mess of fragments, and even with a titanium implant he would never pass the physical required for patrol again. Given a choice between retirement and a desk job, he chose retirement. Then stunned the few who hadn't drifted away over the years when he went into security. More preventive that a cop, he found that being paid to glower at people suited him.

*

Benjamin Clawhauser. A mere seven years ago, he was one of the most sought after performers in the whole of zootopia, one of the very few preds in a prey dominated career. When Clawhauser's moves met powerful beats, everyone would be guaranteed a good time.

Someone didn't like that. The hit and run was never solved, and complications from the resulting surgery effectively shut down the mammal's once legendary metabolism, leaving him with an average mammal's, while his weakened tendons left him unable to burn off anything larger than a small daily meal.

His refusal to give in however brought on the opening of the Horn & Claw dance studio, the first company within the entertainment business to truly earn the title of "equal opportunity employer". And while he accepted anyone, from simple classes to career paths, everyone knew that if you were a graduate you were among the very best Zootopia had to offer.

*

Judy Hopps. Probably better known as her stage name Amethyst, was your average small town girl, as small as a population easily touching a million could bd anyway, who came to the city believing she could be, would be, the next big star.

And while she was an idealist like all who came before, Judy had one trick up her sleeve. She was completely pragmatic, acknowledging that even if she was going to be a success, that was no need to leave herself stagnating for a break that may take years to come. She threw herself into studies, spending as much time learning linguists and languages as she did mailing samples to agencies, never stopping, never _settling_. That said, it was sheer luck that she was overheard singing to herself as she worked late into the night on her student job, leading to a somewhat portentous meeting with a smiling ewe.

*

 Nick Wilde. More commonly known as Wild Thing these days. Born a fox in a world that saw his kind as nothing more than theives in the making, he had to struggle for every advantage he could get, and embed his claws into them with an iron grip. There was much in his life that the others didn't know about, would hopefully never know about, and he liked that just fine.

With that being said, he was probably the most philanthropic of the three stars. Many a home had woken up to a plain envelope through their door, stuffed with several bills of $100s. Enough for that emergency doctors appointment, that needed repair to the roof, a newborn's future.

No one knew who travelled the city, like the fairy godparent he never had, making things just that little bit easier for the downtrodden, and he liked it that way. He must have some ulterior motive, being a fox, yes?

His rise to stardom was sheer chance, long ago with only a busted guitar to his name. His voice and silver tongue were his best weapons against the cold and hunger, and to pour that same skill into a few rhymes set to a tune was easy enough. Chance sent a certain doe walking along his busking corner, and chance made her stop long enough to truly listen. The next day she returned with a limo, a ewe and a contract.

*

Finnick Sinai. Foul mouthed and foul tempered, he was the less than cherubic face behind the deep, rich voice that was only known as HEATwave, a call back to his non existent roots in the desert. For years he eked out a living on the streets in the city that hated his kind, travelling from job to job. Some legal, some ambiguously so. He developed something of a sixth sense for when things would turn against him, and ever since the tiny smiling ewe pushed a pen and dotted line towards him, it had been screaming at the top of its lungs at him.

Singing was hardly the worst thing he had done for a bed and a hot meal, and the cash wasn't bad either. Being unable to spend said cash without people asking where he stole it from was the real kicker though.

As HEATwave though, he was adored for his lyrics, his voice, his passion. For music that lifted you up or brought you down to his level. He sometimes sang a lyric or two while on the job, and sometimes his more... Shady "employers" would have him sing during the act.

Sometimes the fuckers made him dress up. Like a doll.

Truth be told, if it wasn't for meeting these four arseholes, he would have been long gone with a suitcase stuffed full of everything he had earned so far. HEATwave (and god he hated that name) could die the death of obscurity while Finnick Sinai rose in his place.

*

Vincent snorted at Nick's comment before his eyes softened, glancing over at Ben. Unless you've known him a while, you could easily have missed the short tug at the corner of his mouth, the slightly gentler tone to his voice.

"That he is. Strict too. Nine to Seven is purely work hours." He used his glass to hide his smirk, watching his lover's cheeks growing steadily more pink. "Everything after that is strictly ' _Stud Muffin'_ time."

The cheetah waved his free hand at him, his voice a little more flustered as he reassured the star that her performer would make a full recovery while some good natured chuckles spread round the table. Judy's gaze flicked back and forth between the couple, silently squeeing to herself, completely missing the longing looks from the taller male next to her. Finn regarded the two with a shake of the head, turning to face Vincent proper, chuckling as he tipped his bottle up.

"He's lucky he snapped ye up. The things ah would do to that body... Mmm mmm mmm."

The larger mammals rolled their eyes a little as the alcohol flooded the smallest of their group, Clawhauser finally hanging up the phone with a sigh.

"Okay, no more. Ben is _off_ the clock, I don't care if someone tells me the studio is on fire." He paused as he retrieved his set aside drink. "Again." He leaned against his boyfriend's arm, who raised it at the unspoken request, casually draping it across his shoulders.

More drinks were ordered as the group discussed the latest news, gossip and jokes, Finnick managing to make even the stoic bodyguard blush as he went into detail regarding a particularly lewd one. Nick's tail briefly twitched as Judy hung onto his arm as she barely contained whoops of laughter, tears heading at the corner of her eyes, and Ben...

"Ooh! Vince, the stage! It's clear, c'mon!"

The bull's attempts to remain sober dashed by Nick subtly switching glasses catching up to him, he hopped slightly as the cheetah dragged him off with a sly curl of the tail. Finn gave a disgusted snort at the idea of more karaoke and climbed off his chair for the restroom, leaving the fox and rabbit to guard their drinks.

"Those two are just adorable..."

Nick gave a shrug of agreement, finger running round the rim of his glass slowly. While Judy's eyes were fixed on the pair squabbling over song options, he glanced down at her, a soft smile on his face.

_Tonight I'm gonna have myself... a real good time._

His gaze was pulled back to the stage as Ben tugged the microphone from it's stand, nudging his bully boyfriend on the hip.

  
_I feel alive... and the world, it's turning inside out, Yeah!_  
_I'm floating around in ecstasy,_  
_So..._

Vincent swallowed as he stared at the mostly drunk crowd, rocking on his hooves as Ben nudged him, mumbling into his own microphone gripped tightly between two hands

 ** _don't stop me now... don't stop me_** ,

The cheetah leaned over, tail slinking around Bogo's waist, looking up at him with a supportive grin, muttering softly away from the microphone.

"You can do it babe, c'mon... Just let loose!"

  
...,  _'Cause I'm having a good time, **having a good time!**_

The crowd started to stamp and clap as the feline sashayed to the front of the stage, hips swaying from side to side, tail slinking up the bull's stomach playfully.

  _I'm a shooting star leaping through the skies,_  
_Like a tiger! Defying the laws of gravity!_

Ben playfully unsheathed his claws and swipped thin air, swinging his hips from side to side with a wide grin on his face, winking over as Vincent took a hesitant step forward. With a suffering look at his boyfriend, the bull started to mumble into his microphone.  
  
  **I'm a racing car, passing by like Lady Godiva...**  
**I'm gonna go, go, go...**  
**There's no stopping me!**

An arm wrapped around his hip and pulled him in close, that tail of his sending a mild shiver down his spine as it teased around his legs. Even people who knew him well would have been surprised at the gleam in his eyes, a promise held inside them. 'You humored me, later, I'll humor you' they seemed to say. Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat and begging that his pants remained loose, bending down slightly and holding their microphones together.

  ** _I'm burning through the sky yeah!_**  
 ** _Two hundred degrees,_**  
 ** _That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit!_**  
 ** _I'm trav'ling at the speed of light,_**  
 ** _I wanna make a supersonic man out of you!_**

Nick laughed as he watched the usually straight laced buffalo bellow into the microphone with more oomph than before, joining in on the stamping as Judy clapped the pair on. Then, with a blink, he pulled out his vibrating phone and glanced at the text incoming before groaning.  
"Well well, looks like the Bitch is back..."  
Judy grabbed her own phone, grimacing at a similar message.  
"Recording session? We've just finished one!"

The loud swearing and surly faced Finn told them all they needed to know as he climbed back onto his chair, grabbing his drink. Almost in unison, they lifted and drained what booze they had left and slammed them into the table, muttering the shared curse.  
"Fuck Dawn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know if I want to go the "musical episode" route or not... You know, when the characters sing and no one's the wiser?
> 
> Thoughts appreciated!


End file.
